The Crazy Prologue Never Ends

30. My Funeral (1)

Wailing, wailing.

The dawn was blue, and moonlight faintly illuminated the window.

A woman lay between veils draped over the bed.

Her damp hair clinging to her forehead revealed the traces of a strenuous childbirth. The area around the bed was bustling with maids holding wet towels and basins.

When a man finally entered, the maids lowered their heads and scattered.

As the door closed, a blonde woman turned her head. She appeared a bit disheveled, covered in sweat, showing signs of recent labor. It was Elizabeth.

‘Lady Elizabeth?’

I tried to speak, but no words came out.

<The child is born. Such a beautiful baby girl,”> the old man announced as he handed the swaddled baby to the woman.

<You’ve suffered. Such a lovely child. She resembles your ladyship a lot.>

<My child…>

Elizabeth uttered, her voice trembling.

Sparse strands of hair were visible on the baby’s head. They were short and not many, so they weren’t very noticeable, but it was a clear sign.

As the woman carefully examined the baby, her long shadow cast over him.

<Would you like to hold her?>”

She smiled brightly and handed the wrapped baby to the man.

<It’s your child, sir, and also the new heir to the marquisate. I will offer this child to you, sir.>

Then it became apparent.

Standing beside her was Deon.

Deon, who had quietly approached the bedside, took a deep breath.

His blue eyes sparkled. The room was dark, but his eyes were eerily sharp.

<The next generation of blood has been born.>

An instant of silence pervaded the room.

Deon, who had been staring at the baby with a vacant look, grabbed the hilt of the sword tied to his waist. Without hesitation, he drew the blade from its scabbard.

The red-haired woman sank to her knees, hands raised in supplication.

<Please spare her. Please…>

He chuckled.

<Why would I? Is there any reason for that?>

<Still… you haven’t used me up completely yet. I will prove my worth. So please… please have mercy…>

<Prove?>

He replied coldly and indifferently.

His expression was no different from when he looked down upon Lord Caeon. Like he was looking at vultures. His gaze was dry and withered.

<Your usefulness ends here. Is there any need to prove anything? Your usefulness ends with the birth of that child.>

<I… If you spare me, I won’t reveal the existence of your blood anywhere… I really won’t….>

The woman pleaded earnestly. Her words trembled with desperation.

<Tsk. Do you really not know?”>

Deon clicked his tongue.

<You are my weakness. The mere fact that you are alive is a significant flaw.>

<But that child… she’s still too young, isn’t she? I, I will be needed more. Or, please hire me at the duchy. I may be inexperienced and clumsy, but I will do my best to fulfill any task. Laundry… cleaning…>

<I don’t want to hear any more.>

The first thing his hand holding the sword touched was her words. He ruthlessly cut her off. Then, he slowly approached the red-haired woman.

She shivered as she glanced at the blade touching her throat.

The blade reflected the moonlight, gleaming brightly.

It was beautiful. His movements with the knife were as elegant as a sword dance. To the extent that I would be enchanted if this were just a scene from a novel, not the situation I found myself in.

Deon skillfully wielded the knife with a clean gesture.

Squelch.

The woman fell to the side. A pool of blood spread beneath her as she lay overturned.

I took a step back, but the blood quickly expanded and reached my feet.

The tips of my socks became soaked, and as I lifted my foot, the sticky blood clung to it, sending a shiver down my spine.

I wanted to avoid it, but there was no place left to run to; I had reached the end of the room.

A suffocating fear gripped my throat.

As I watched the gradually spreading blood, a transparent spirit suddenly rose from her body and began walking towards me, dripping with every step. Her eyes were hollow and dark.

I was trembling uncontrollably by now.

Though it was clearly a dream, it felt cold. A white breath escaped my lips.

She approached me, still trembling, and whispered in my ear.

<Poor Leonie.>

She looked at me with an expression that was hard to read, whether she was laughing or crying.

<Finally, it has come to this. Struggling is futile; fate will only cling to you more stubbornly. This tragedy was created because of you. If you had just stayed still, you could have lived for another year. It’s a pity.>

She continued speaking.

<Foolish Leonie. Who protects the one who willingly came as a hostage?>

Her desperate words echoed in the air.

<If you want to live, run away.>

* * *

“Gasp!”

I ran into cold sweat.

“Are you okay? You’ve been sweating quite a lot.”

Suren was holding a towel in one hand.

My forehead was damp. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the wet towel Suren had placed there or if it was the cold sweat from the unsettling dream.

“What kind of dream did you have that made you sweat so much even while taking a nap… Was it a nightmare?”

It was a dream.

It felt so vivid.

I heard Suren’s gentle voice, but my heart wasn’t calming down.

Already, it was the fourth dream like this.

Recurring dreams were as vivid as reality. The sensation of the blade touching my throat lingered even after I woke up.

I prodded my neck with my fingers. It felt like the marks from the veins might still be there.

A recurring dream each time. It didn’t seem like a mere coincidence.

Maybe… it was a premonition.

In the dream, the woman would clutch her garments, pleading for mercy, and scream for him to put down the blade he swung at her. Even though it was just a dream, her desperate cries made every hair on my body stand on end.

Deon wore different clothes each time. So, the piece of fabric the woman clutched and pleaded with him to spare also changed each time.

On some days, it was a black fur-lined cloak that reached down to his ankles; on others, it was a fur garment made of wolf skin.

When the white wedding robe was stained with blood, even in the dream, a chill ran through me.

The dream changed slightly each day.

The woman clutched an old dagger on one day and a long sword on another, praying for him to make a different choice in the ever-repeating dream, but the outcome remained unchanged.

Only the direction of the blade varied, and the scene ended with the woman falling as the blade was swung.

As if the dream were mocking me, saying that struggling here and trying to break free wouldn’t change anything.

The dream taunted me every time.

“Suren.”

I called for Suren. My voice was hoarse.

She paused in squeezing the towel and turned to me.

I stared at her silently. Her black pupils, contrasting with her snow-white hair, were clear. The sweat on her face glistened in her clear pupils. Looking into those clear eyes brought a bit of calm.

“You can stop now.”

“But you are still sweating.”

“Well, wouldn’t it be better to bring some ice instead of a towel and place it on your forehead?”

My forehead was sticky with dried sweat.

“Ice? Would you like to put something so dirty on young Lady’s head? That’s what all the noblewomen do.”

“But I’m not the young Lady, so it doesn’t matter for me.”

The words slipped out unintentionally. The dream felt like an extension of reality.

“Huh? Who are you talking about?”

“Just… if I weren’t here, anyone would serve as the mistress.”

I stumbled over my words.

Suren. Thankfully, this world wasn’t a ruthless place where maids were buried with their masters, so she might find a good position again. After all, there was only one place in the number one spot.

“Why are you saying such terrible things? I’ll serve young Lady for the rest of my life.”

Suren widened her eyes and asked in astonishment.

She threw the towel on the floor and approached me.

“Why have you been like this lately? You don’t even leave the room. The one who was planning to escape, why are you cowering like you did on the first day you arrived?”

Suren knelt down and locked eyes with me. Then, she examined my expression.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

I got up and walked to the comfortable chair by the window. Even though it was just a few steps, my legs trembled like a bamboo in the wind.

I sank into the armchair, and a chilly breeze seeped in through the open door.

“You don’t look well,” Suren said. The pale face of the woman from the dream reflected on the glass window.

As she mentioned, I did look a bit haggard. Her cold gaze resembled the woman I had seen in the dream, making it eerie.

“Could you be feeling unwell? Should I ask the Duke for assistance? Maybe we can delay the blood consumption a little. Or would you like me to make a special meal to replenish your strength?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to do anything.

“You mentioned wanting to eat dessert from the famous bakery in the capital. Shall I arrange for it? We can’t go out to eat, but if I order it now, it should arrive in about three weeks.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“You used to love dessert. Why don’t you have an appetite suddenly?”

Suren looked worried.

I wanted to say something, anything, to respond, but I didn’t even have the energy to utter words of comfort.

“I thought you had given up on escaping, but seeing you like this worries me even more. Maybe you should at least plan an escape? Shall I find a piece of wood to carve again? Or should I try drawing a map? I’ll help.”

“It’s okay, Suren.”

None of it was needed. It had all become pointless, Suren.

Thinking that death was right around the corner made everything seem bothersome. Even if there were plenty of dry branches scattered around, I didn’t feel like picking any up.

“Is it because of that woman?”

Suren bit her lip, her exotic features looking all the more distinct.

“You changed after having dinner with Lady Elizabeth. Surely that woman must have done something. What kind of conversation did you have? Did she, a high-ranking noble from the capital, dare to disrespect you?”

“Lady Elizabeth did nothing wrong.”

That was the truth. The only issue was the fact that the child she was carrying was the next bloodline. There was no room for blame on her part.

“And Lady Arinna is also a guest of the Duke and a noble herself. It’s fine when I’m around, but you shouldn’t casually speak like that outside. You never know who might overhear.”

I pretended to be angry.

“Then at least confide in me. Perhaps I can help resolve Lady Elizabeth’s concerns in an instant.”

I wanted to pour my heart out, share my worries.

“Please tell me honestly. I am your subordinate, not the Duke, but you, my Lord. Have I been so inadequate that I can’t even mention this fact?”

“No, Suren.”

Tears welled up uncontrollably.

I realized that I had no one to confide in, no one I could truly open up to.

In the end, Leonie was abandoned by her family, not belonging to the Duke’s family either, dying alone and lonely in that cramped room.

“I have something to give you, my Lady.”

Suren, who had been sitting on the floor, abruptly stood up and rummaged through a drawer.

Suren, who had been furrowing her brow and waving her hands, was suddenly startled when her hand brushed against her chin.

A sound like something falling could be heard.

She scratched her scalp with her fingernails and plucked something out. It was a small bundle of paper tied with a string.

“I brought these herbs from my hometown just in case something like this happened. You never know.”

“What kind of herbs are these?”

“They have a sleep-enhancing effect and help replenish your sleep. If you put them in your food and consume them in small quantities, you can sleep well.”

“I’m fine. It’s not that I can’t sleep, but rather that I sleep too much, which is the problem.”

If I fell asleep, I would surely have those dreadful recurring dreams again.

In fact, I didn’t want to fall asleep.

“No, please take them. You never know when you might need them.”

Suren extended the bundle of paper.

“Don’t use them just as sleeping pills. In our country, they are also used to remove obstacles or disturbances caused by women, whether it’s one’s own or someone else’s.”

I stared intently at the piece of paper lying on my palm. It was folded neatly into a small brown bundle.

“For ordinary people, it’s used like a sleeping pill, but it can be fatal for pregnant women.”

Suren looked at me with her sharp, piercing gaze. There was a firm determination in her tightly closed lips. Her white hair fluttered pale in the wind.

“If you ever need them, please use them.”